


Of Rabbits and Tigers

by Katlou303



Category: Naruto
Genre: ANBU - Freeform, Abuse, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friendship, Idiots in Love, Jealousy, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Protectiveness, Recovery, Senpai-Kouhai Relationship, The abuse is NOT between the main couple, The slow road to recovery, and stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-04-07 04:05:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14072538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katlou303/pseuds/Katlou303
Summary: A goofy, good-natured ANBU and his stoic, overprotective Captain, how they met and more.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kigichi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kigichi/gifts).



> Hope you like it, Kigichi, it's all your fault! :D

When Takumi first joined ANBU, he’d hoped he’d be placed in Kakashi’s squad.

He was the only other person from their class that Takumi knew was in ANBU, and although they’d rarely spoken at the Academy, it would have been a little comforting, working with a familiar face. Despite all the masks.

Takumi had been fast-tracked into joining ANBU since graduation. He’d left the Academy at a respectable nine years old, missing just about every record possible and falling far short of Kakashi, who’d been five when he became a genin. _Five._ They’d all been pushed into starting and leaving school as quickly as possible, but Kakashi – ever the overachiever – did that and then some.

Takumi knew he was being herded down a certain path when he wasn’t immediately assigned a team upon graduating. He was instead sent on missions with older nin, mostly chuunin, who just about managed to tolerate him and keep him alive. Takumi had been a very curious child.

His parents died a year before graduation, within days of each other. Back then, it seemed like every member of his class was an orphan. There was no time to mourn. There was only the constant drills, the repetition of basics, each one of them being shaped into a standard genin, ready to be shipped off to missions.

Takumi’s occasional teammates told him not to stand out so much. They started to censor their own reports of the missions they went on with him, erasing the moments he improvised new seals on the fly, the time he tried to use a transportation seal on himself and wound up falling into a ditch, and every time he failed to get a kill on a mission.

A grizzled-looking old man smiled at him once, when he left the Hokage’s office with his team after a successful mission. The team leader stood in front of him and greeted the man.

_Danzo._

Takumi didn’t think much of it, but three months later and he was being summoned to the Hokage’s office and handed a mask and sword.

He became Usagi.

He never saw his old almost-teammates again.

His first Captain was Kuma, an expert in kenjutsu and poisons. Kuma was a big man, but he could walk as quietly as a mouse, and move as quickly as a sharpened kunai.

Kuma took one look at Usagi, tiny and underdeveloped, and scoffed. Takumi had spent years running missions with an assortment of shinobi, people of all kinds. He’d found that there were two types of people, really.

1) People who could just about tolerate him.

2) People who wanted him dead.

He’d never imagined his Captain would fall under the second category, but after the third near-death experience, he had to revise his opinion. Usagi was fourteen by then. He’d been a genin for five years. He’d spent most of that time surviving impossible odds and trying his best to hold his own with veterans. What else could he do but continue?

Usagi survived four years under Kuma’s command.

Four years of assassination missions, soul-destroying work, while a man whispered in his ear that he was worthless, an embarrassment, a burden that would drag the rest of the squad down. He’d be their undoing, Kuma said, if he didn’t get himself killed first.

At eighteen, Takumi sat on a stone bench and considered it.

He couldn’t deny it, he made a lot of mistakes. He almost died every other mission, compromising the goal and making it that much harder for his squadmates to succeed. They had to slow down to a crawl just to accommodate his pitiful speed.

Wouldn’t it be better for everyone if he just… stopped?

Takumi looks at the summoning tattoo on his arm. It was supposed to connect him to his destined summons, but he’d told everyone it was a dud, that he’d tried and it just didn’t work. He’d weathered the storm of Kuma’s scorn, the pity in the rest of the squad’s eyes. It was easier to deal with failure if it wasn’t real.

There was nothing wrong with the tattoo.

It was Takumi who was wrong.

How could he tie some majestic beast to himself, robbing them of their chance to have a competent summoner?

He traces the lines with his fingers. It would only take a few drops of blood, a spark of chakra. Then he would know if he was good enough to be chosen. But if he wasn’t, then he’d know for sure.

He knew Kakashi had summons, a whole group of dogs that functioned as an entire squad on their own. How could one person be so talented?

Takumi had _one_ thing.

Kuma said if he couldn’t seal, he truly would be a waste of the air he breathed.

“Now there’s a gloomy face.” A man remarks.

Takumi looks up, startled.

The stranger looks a little older than him, maybe early to mid-twenties. He’s got dark green hair, almost black, and amber-brown eyes. He’s giving Takumi a look he’s not used to seeing.

Concern.

“Could bring rain to a sunny day, that face.” The man comments, running his hands through his hair.

“S-sorry.” Takumi says.

The man frowns at him, “For what? You can’t help your face being the way it is. What’s to apologise for?”

Takumi stammers, at a loss. Whenever Kuma gets like this, asking questions there’s no right answer to, Takumi just wants to run for cover.

“I’m sorry for… my face being so gloomy?” Takumi tries, tilting his head.

“Just try a smile and we’ll call it even.” The man grins, tapping a cigarette between his fingers. Takumi watches it dance across his knuckles and longs for that level of dexterity.

Takumi bites his lip. Kuma can always tell if he’s making a stupid face, despite the mask. Sometimes Takumi doesn’t have a clue he’s making one at all until Kuma yells at him. Does this man really want to see him smile?

The man pops the cigarette between his lips, flashing an absent-minded hand-seal and igniting the tip, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’d prefer a genuine smile anyway.”

Takumi nods, watching the smoke drift upwards.

The man sits next to him on the bench. Takumi can feel the heat from his body. His face flushes and he scoots over a little to the left, making room. The man smirks at him, the cigarette bobbing between his lips. Takumi sees a flash of his tongue and realises he’s staring. He looks away, certain that his face is red-hot now. _Idiot._

“I’m Ryuu.” He says, exhaling a cloud of smoke in one big sigh. “And you?”

“Just Ryuu?” Takumi asks, frowning.

“Nope, I’ve got a last name.” Ryuu shrugs. “Maybe I’ll give it to you, if you earn it.”

Takumi blinks. Ryuu is… strange, but not in the way people say Takumi is.

“I’m Takumi.” He replies. “I’ll trade you my surname for yours.”

Ryuu chuckles, “Doesn’t work that way. Hardly an equal trade. What if my name’s worth more than yours?”

Well, Takumi didn’t exactly come from a clan. Ryuu’s looks weren’t the standard Konoha fare, but then again, neither were his. Either one of them could’ve been from an esteemed, foreign family.

“I’m the son of a Daimyo,” Takumi says grandly, daring to have a little fun with this, “No, make that... _twelve_ Daimyo.”

“As many as twelve? How impressive.” Ryuu’s eyes widen in mock-awe.

“ _And_ my mother is a princess. So, my name’s worth a small country. How about yours?” Takumi tosses his head snobbishly.

“Well, my dad was a merchant and my mother was a different _kind_ of merchant. If you catch my drift.”

Takumi did not, but he nodded all the same.

“So, whatever worth my name has comes from what I’ve earned for it.” Ryuu says, gazing off into the distance. “It’s up to you if that beats twelve Daimyo fathers and a princess mother.”

Takumi smiles to himself, saying softly, “Yeah. Yeah, it does.”

“Nice smile, kid.” Ryuu says.

Takumi blinks at him, then feels his shy smile widen, “Thank you, Ryuu.”

“No problem, Takumi.”

***

Hello friends,

Takumi and Ryuu’s first meeting! Surprise, Takumi wasn’t always so cheery (at least not since leaving the Academy and being sucked into the hellhole that is ANBU). And double surprise, Ryuu can be nice sometimes. Weird.

I do intend to post whatever Takumi/Ryuu plotbunnies I get while writing Time Flies Like An Arrow here, so hopefully there will be more to come!


	2. Chapter 2

Takumi hasn’t bumped into that strange man since they met, two days ago. It’s not as if he’s been purposefully looking for him, or anything. He’s just at a loss with no missions to prep for. He’s in the middle of a two-week break. He hadn’t requested it, but when he and the squad returned from their latest assassination, a chuunin handed him a file that told him he wouldn’t be up for missions any time soon. He’s not sure if one of his squadmates reported him as being distracted or compromised in some way, or if someone had checked his paperwork and discovered he hadn’t taken a single break since leaving the Academy.

Technically, he still hasn’t.

He’s been spending his time in the library, working on ideas for some new seals. He has to present his creations to a superior before he’s cleared to use them in the field, so he likes to make sure their ready for inspection, when the time comes. It took a solid four hours for him to come up with something viable for his latest idea.

He walks home, his head full of geometric shapes and patterns. He doesn’t notice the approaching figure until they almost collide. As terrible a shinobi as he is, he’s still capable of moving out of someone’s way, even while distracted. He swerves to the right automatically, all thoughts of seals dissipating at once.

He snaps to attention, calling out an automatic, “Captain!”

A fist sinks into his gut.

“Not even an Academy Student would make that mistake.” Kuma murmurs into Takumi’s ear. Takumi’s whole body has folded over Kuma’s fist. He can’t draw a breath, his stomach muscles spasming in pain.

“S-sorry.” Takumi gasps.

He shouldn’t know Kuma’s face or his true identity. And even though he _does_ , that doesn’t mean he should acknowledge him on the street in his civilian gear as his captain. _Idiot._

Kuma sighs, long and aggrieved. “Am I going to have to recommend you be sent back to the Academy? It might a little advanced for you, but hey, I’m sure you’d make it out eventually.”

“Pretty sure he graduated quicker than you.”

Kuma freezes. Takumi watches the malice wipe away from his face, a blank slate replacing it.

Kakashi is standing behind Kuma, leaning against a nearby building. His nose is in a book. He doesn’t seem remotely interested in either of them, and yet it was his voice that spoke up.

“Listen, Hatake, I don’t know what you think you heard…” Kuma starts, turning on Kakashi.

Kakashi shrugs, “Us Hatakes have got pretty good hearing. I _think_ I heard an assault in the civilian quarter, but hey. Maybe I’m wrong.”

“If you think you heard that, then you must’ve heard this moron jeopardise my safety with his incompetence – ”

“And two wrongs make a right. He never said anything, you never laid a hand on him. Sound good to you?”

“Fine. But if he makes just one more mistake like that, I’m reserving the right to take what I’m owed out of his hide.”

Takumi shrinks back.

“Fair enough. And I’m sure if one more incident like this happens again, you won’t be sent back to the Academy. That’s a little too advanced for you, I’m afraid. They teach things like _ethics_ there, y’know? Instead, I think they’ll just lock you up. Keep you in a box for the rest of your life. How’s that sound?”

Kuma pales slightly, but manages to keep a stoic face, “Very funny, Hatake.”

“I’m not laughing.” Kakashi says. He turns his one-eyed stare on Takumi. “Are you laughing?”

“Umm… no, sir.”

Kuma’s fist twitches, but Kakashi idly turns a page of his book and he visibly reins in his anger, lowering his arm.

“D’you see the kind of worm you’re protecting, Hatake? I never thought you of all people would go soft. This kid is not fit for the kind of secrecy we need. He isn’t capable of it. He puts himself and others in danger constantly, just by opening his fat mouth. Tell me you wouldn’t do the same with one of yours. Tell me you would put up with this constant insubordination.”

Takumi doesn’t dare look Kakashi in the face. He doesn’t want to see the moment Kakashi realises Kuma’s right. He doesn’t want his favourite daydream of transferring to Kakashi’s command being crushed right before his eyes.

“Insubordination? No. I’d stamp that out, obviously.” Kakashi says easily. Takumi winces. “But that isn’t what this is. Any competent leader would be able to see that.”

Kuma bristles, “And who are you to question how I control my squad? We all know how you treat your teammates, what their survival rate – ”

“Careful, now.” Kakashi says, turning another page. His stance is as loose and relaxed as ever, his tone mild, but there’s an air of menace hanging between them. Palpable and stifling.

Kuma swallows.

“I - I’m sorry,” Takumi interjects quietly, “I do need to get better at remembering protocol, Kakashi- _san_. I am a risk. I know that. But I’ll work hard to change, I swear!”

“You don’t answer to me,” Kakashi says, meeting his eyes with one blank, unimpressed look, “Save your excuses. You _do_ need to get better. But you’re not the only one.”

Takumi barely manages to rein in another apology. Kakashi clearly doesn’t want to hear it. He droops, just a little. There’s no way Kakashi would ever consider taking him on now.

“Well, I don’t know about either of you, but I’ve got work to be getting on with.” Kuma says, his affable mask sliding back into place seamlessly.

Kakashi holds his book in front of his face, in lieu of a farewell. Kuma’s newly-amiable expression twitches.

The big man turns to Takumi, his back to Kakashi. He lowers his voice, “I expect you to perform at _my_ standards in the next mission, rat. Not yours.”

“Yes… I will.” Takumi says, biting back yet another _sir_ that would no doubt earn him a slap.

Kuma regards him with a satisfied smile, then disappears in a swirl of leaves.

Takumi sighs.

“How did you recognise him out of his uniform?” Kakashi asks, making him jump. For some reason he’d assumed Kakashi had left silently when Kuma did.

It’s a fair question. ANBU is supposed to be anonymity and silence, a knife in the dark wielded by someone with no name, no face, no ties. Takumi doesn’t know anyone else in his squad. Just Kuma. Oshiro Yuudai, aka Kuma, Captain of Team Ha, one of Konoha’s most lethal squad of assassins. The rest of Takumi’s squad are masks and codenames.

“It was an accident.” Takumi squirms. “I… saw him without his mask.”

Kakashi looks up from his book, “His fault, then.”

“No! It was… it couldn’t be helped. We were on a mission, and… oh, I can’t say. It’s not my secret to tell.” Takumi says, wringing his hands.

Kakashi closes his book and points it at Takumi’s face, suddenly far too close for comfort, “That’s weird. Do you know how that sounds? Not good. If you ever need someone to talk to… I can just go find someone else, no problem.”

Takumi gazes at Kakashi in awe. He wants to _help_. Incredible.

He’s probably been beaming at the other boy for too long, judging by the slight cough Kakashi gives and the faint pink at the tips of his ears.

“It’s none of my business and I don’t care enough to do something about it myself, but… don’t forget, you might have been _assigned_ to a certain squad, but that doesn’t mean you can never _leave_ that squad.”

Takumi manages to keep his smile. He can’t show the truth on his face. Kakashi may not care enough to help, but he’s good enough to pity him. Takumi doesn’t want that.

“Thanks, but I’ll be okay.” He says.

Kakashi hums, his book disappearing into his jacket. “Guess we’ll see. What’s his ANBU codename, by the way? Just so I know who to look out for.”

Takumi regards him with a slow, confused look. He doesn’t want to be suspicious of Kakashi of all people, but…

Kakashi lets out a little chuckle, patting Takumi’s face in a move that’s either fond or condescending. Takumi chooses to believe it’s the former. “It’s good that you’re still loyal to him, no matter how much of an ass he is. But he isn’t where you should put _all_ your loyalty, understand? There’s better places for it.”

Takumi stares at him blankly.

Kakashi sighs, pinching his cheek, “Ah, well. I did my good deed for the day.”

Just as he steps back, preparing to leave, his silver head snaps around, pinpointing something.

Takumi follows his glance.

Ryuu is standing on a bridge across the way, a dark smudge on the horizon. He moves his hand away from his mouth and smoke drifts towards them. From this distance, Takumi can’t see the look on his face. It’s clear he wanted to be seen, since there are far better vantage spots with ample cover all around Konoha. A bridge is not one of them.

“Someone you know?” Kakashi asks, eyebrow raised.

Takumi shakes his head. “No.”

_Not yet._

xxxxxxxx

By the time he finally makes it home, the sun is threatening to set, the world painted in hues of red and orange. His little house is gently smouldering in the twilight haze. He walks down the path to the front door, worn down by a constant tread, and touches his hand to the faded blue door.

His chakra sings back to him. He can feel his seals spread throughout the house, unbroken by intruders or design flaws. They deliver him a picture of his home without him ever having to enter. Everything’s okay.

Tired, he dumps his bag full of notes and half-crazed scrawls of ideas, and flops face-first down onto the sofa.

Kakashi had left soon after spotting Ryuu. Takumi had started to walk towards Ryuu, expecting another odd conversation with the enigmatic man, but he’d vanished the moment Takumi drew close enough to read the thoughtful look in his eye.

He didn’t get his talk with Ryuu, in the end. If he’d just managed to dodge Kuma, avoid calling him Captain, Kakashi wouldn’t have felt the need to get involved and he could’ve left and found Ryuu and –

And what? Ryuu left the moment he got too close. He obviously doesn’t want to talk to him. Maybe he just felt sorry for him when they first met, and now he wants nothing more to do with him. Why would he? Kuma always says he can’t stand the sound of his bleating voice, or the sight of his freak eyes. Why would someone like Ryuu bother with someone like Takumi?

Takumi had used his parents’ names in the seal on the front door. He’d had the idea that his love for them, and their love for him, would add to the seal’s protective power. That seal had been up for years, and he’d never had a chance to prove it. It was just a theory. A hope. He’d thought he could start adding more names as the years went on and he found more people to love. But it never happened. It’s just the names of two, long-dead people, circling his lone mark.

He wonders how Ryuu spells his name.

He never did learn his surname.

He knows Kakashi’s name, of course. He’s seen it in countless reports, saw it written down in the Academy more than once. He imagines adding his name to the seal, and Kakashi somehow finding out about it. He cringes violently, burying his face into a cushion. _Nope. That is never going to happen._

He only has one seal applied to himself. His summoning tattoo. He’d added it in the hope of increasing his chances of getting onto Kakashi’s squad. But that never happened. In all the time that had passed since he drew the seal one-handed, filled with a quiet kind of hope, he hadn’t activated it once. It was a generic seal, designed to reverse summon him to whatever contract animals would suit him the best.

But once he joined Team Ha, he couldn’t stand the idea of having weak, useless summons. He knew what Kuma would say about _that._ But then, if his summons were strong, wouldn’t they be wasted on him? Wouldn’t they be better off pairing themselves with another?

He stares down at the black lines on his forearm. He’d strived to make it elegant, at the time, with neat, thin lines. He’d hoped it would catch someone’s eye.

It never did, and now it remained dormant and useless.

He pulls his hair free of its tie, letting it fall to his shoulders. His mother always said it was made of moonlight. He’d once thought it was kind of like Kakashi’s. Now he just thinks it’s a detriment on stealth missions, like Kuma said. He’d said it while tugging a little too hard on Takumi’s ponytail, drawing blood at the roots. Takumi hadn’t said anything at the time.

Now he runs his hands through his hair and sighs. The sigh catches in his throat, turns wet. He bites back a sob. He doesn’t have time for this. He has to work on his new seal, get it ready and working in time to show it to a superior. If he can get this medical leave cut short, Kuma will praise him. He’s done it before. Said he showed a surprising commitment to his work. He’d smiled at him. If he can just get the seal working, maybe Kuma will be happy with him again.

He spreads his papers out on the table in front of him. He stares down at the intersecting lines, the miniscule shapes and fine details. They begin to blur before him. They could be perfect. They could be worthless. He just can’t tell.

Just as he begins descending into melancholy, he’s startled out of his dark thoughts by a knock. An overenthusiastic rap that sends warning signals throughout his seals, a jolt of unease.

He groans. Why does someone have to be here _now?_ Just when he’s taken his hair down and finally got comfortable, just about to spend a pleasant evening spiralling into depressing thoughts.

He wriggles off the sofa, wiping his pages of notes clean with a few hand-seals. It wouldn’t do to let them get out into the world before they were ready. He’s still not quite sure about the multiplication seal.

He unlocks his front door on the way over, giving himself time to fix his hair.

It swings open with another all-too-eager knock, revealing a surprised Maito Gai.

 _Gai?_ They’d never spoken. Their paths hadn’t crossed in the Academy, or since then.

The younger boy quickly recovers, flashing a bright smile his way, “Hello! I was informed by my Esteemed Eternal Rival that you are in need of a sparring partner, for you are often the victim of the cruel and fickle hands of Fate! You need not fear, for Konoha’s Sublime Green Beast of Prey is here!”

Takumi hears a faint giggle in the distance.

“You want to spar? With _me_?” Takumi asks, flabbergasted.

And who was this excellent endless rival who had told Gai that Takumi was… what was it? A victim of fate?

“I would be honoured!” Gai says, still beaming incessantly.

No one ever sparred with Takumi.

He glances past the taller boy. The sky is red, night fast approaching. The daylight hours were done.

“Isn’t it a little late to be fighting? The visibility would be poor, and – ”

“All the more reason to spar now! It is best to practice fighting in every kind of environment, weather and time! Rain or shine, day or night, you must be ready!”

“Ready for what?”

Gai puffs his chest out, hands on his hips, “ _Everything_ ,” He says, as if imparting great wisdom, “Life is an endless test, constantly throwing out challenges and obstacles. The only way to overcome them is to never allow yourself to be caught off-guard! Always be on the look-out for danger!”

Takumi catches sight of Kakashi sitting on a nearby roof. He’s still reading his book.

“Gai-san…” Takumi begins, “Who told you to come here?”

“My rival, Hatake Kakashi! The tricky, devilishly cunning – ”

“ – right over there.” Takumi finishes, pointing over his shoulder.

Gai whirls around, nearly knocking Takumi’s head clean off his shoulders with a flailing arm.

“AHA!” He booms, “My Eternal Rival, here to challenge me! My most humble apologies, Takumi-chan, but I must rise to meet this threat!”

And with that, he was off.

Kakashi had already disappeared, but that didn’t seem to discourage Gai from hopping from rooftop to rooftop, his booming laugh echoing in his wake.

“Takumi- _chan_?” He mutters in the doorway.

Maybe it was time for a haircut.

xxxxxxxx

“I’m very sorry, but I cannot authorise your return to active duty.” The fresh-faced chuunin tells him, peering over mounds of paperwork. “You won’t be cleared until you have completed your mandated leave and have passed a medical test.”

“But _why_?” Takumi asks, beyond frustrated. He knew it was peacetime now and there was less call for constantly active nin, but to be forced to stay at home, possibly delaying Team Ha’s missions…

“I can’t answer that either, sir.”

Takumi swallows back an angry remark, instead giving the chuunin a tired smile. They were just doing their job, after all.

But for every day he’s off work, Kuma will get angrier and angrier. Team Ha works as a tight unit, despite Takumi’s constant blunderings. As a result, when one is unavailable, more often than not, the entire team is benched. He doesn’t want to bump into Kuma again. He’s already proved it’s the same, whether he’s Takumi or Usagi, facing down Yuudai or Kuma.

He can’t whine to his superiors about how mean Kuma is. He’d sound like the useless child he is. They’d probably yank him out of ANBU and force him into the next Chuunin Exam, since he skipped them the first time around. He can’t hope one of his teammates will report Kuma, either. He doesn’t know a thing about any of them besides their fighting abilities. And even if a miracle happened, and he was transferred to another squad, what if he found out that he really was the problem, that any Captain would treat him as Kuma did? That he really was so incompetent that he forced his superiors to discipline him like a child? He couldn’t bear that.

He leaves the office with slumped shoulders, wondering if he should just treat this time like the vacation it’s meant to be, or put all his effort into polishing up his seals. Regardless, he should keep his head down and avoid Kuma.

“Bad day?” A man asks lightly, his voice sounding hollow in a very familiar way.

Takumi’s head jerks up.

An ANBU stands in front of him, leaning against the wall of the corridor. Takumi can’t help but be reminded of Kakashi’s lazy slouch.

“No, I’m okay.” He says, managing a lopsided grin. “Thanks. Are you waiting for a mission, or…?”

It’s fairly unusual to see ANBU out in the open if they aren’t actively working, like those who guarded the Hokage. And even they mostly stayed in the shadows. Takumi can’t remember the last time he saw another ANBU outside of a mission. He looks oddly out of place, his mask bathed in the warm indoor lights.

“Waiting for something.” The ANBU shrugs. “What about you?”

“Oh… I was trying to get out of my mandated leave. I’m itching to get back to work, you know?” Takumi says with false cheer, adding a lame little punch to punctuate his remark.

The ANBU tilts their head, “Not really. I can’t get off-duty fast enough. I’d make the most of it, if I were you.”

Maybe he should. Maybe spending his only vacation in the library trying desperately to come up with ways to get back to work wasn’t actually the best use of his time. But then, what would Kuma say if he actually took two full weeks to return?

He has to fight off a shudder. Judging by the barely visible glint in the ANBU’s eyes, he was unsuccessful in hiding it.

“Wanna do something fun?” The ANBU says.

Takumi takes a step back, colliding with the closed door behind him. “U-uh… I… What about the thing you were waiting for?”

“What if I was waiting for you?” The ANBU says cheerily.

Takumi stares at them, wide-eyed. “I… would be very surprised, since we’ve only just met.”

Unless it was Kakashi. Or Gai. Though he would absolutely know if it was Gai. There hasn’t even been one exclamation since they started talking.

“Maybe it’s fate.” The ANBU pushes off the wall, offering their hand. “I’m Tora, by the way.”

Takumi shakes it automatically.

He’s not Usagi. Not right now.

“I’m Takumi.” He says, offering his best smile.

It’ll have to be enough, for now.

***

Jeez, isn’t Takumi a sad egg? My goodness. He’s in a bit of a tricky situation, though. I genuinely intended for this to be a collection of fluffy stories about a big ol’ tiger trying to romance a dumb bunny, but then all this _plot_ got in the way. Ew.

I actually took an animal personality test on Takumi’s behalf, giving the answers I thought he’d give and… he turned out to be a rabbit. Somehow, I am not surprised.

If you were picking up some major hero worship/crush vibes from Takumi for Kakashi… you are not wrong. But has Kakashi noticed??? He’s not the most socially competent boy, though his observational skills are pretty top-notch. Hmm…

If you think Kakashi was fucking with both Gai and Takumi… you are not wrong.

No one spars with Takumi, he doesn’t see his teammates outside of missions, he missed out on learning everything the Academy had to offer and then skipped the Chuunin Exams… not hard to guess why he’s so poopy at being a ninja. He never even had a genin team.

It is SO hard not to type Usagi instead of Takumi. My god, is it hard.

So, Kuma sucker-punched Takumi for accidentally outing him as ANBU on the street (though it seemed like no one else was around – except for Kakashi, who’s alwaaaaays waaaatching – and tbh it’s a major overreaction. What a butt)

Kuma’s real name is Oshiro Yuudai and Takumi knows what he looks like beneath the mask. Why would that be??

Ryuu met Takumi last chapter. Now Tora meets Takumi in this chapter!

Takumi needs a pet. Big time. But I guess it’d have to be something that can take care of itself when he’s off assassinating folk. Hmm…

I’ve had a birthday and now I’m a quarter of a century old. A quarter of the way to becoming an Ancient Being. Can’t wait!

 **Quick poll for fun:** What’s your least favourite cliché in fiction?

Mine is probably the Normal Girl who thinks she’s plain but somehow every dude in her vicinity falls in love with her anyway? Though I’m also waaaaay over love triangles.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Child abuse

Takumi had wondered what other ANBU did on their days off. There was a certain camaraderie between them, as soldiers they had been through a unique experience that most shinobi couldn’t relate to. He’d noticed it between his squad, Team Ha, and had hoped to be a part of it one day.

Tora took him roof-hopping, crossing large sections of Konoha in a flash. Takumi watched his large form spring from one building to the next, his broad shoulders shifting with each movement. He was cloaked, his hair hidden, and was wearing gloves. Takumi couldn’t even see what kind of skin tone he had. All he knew was that he was tall, broad, and had a deep voice. That was most of the shinobi in Konoha, and perhaps the world.

The sun was just setting, splashing colour across the village.

Tora lands on a tiled red roof, then raises a finger to his mask’s snarling mouth, “I’m just gonna head in and get us some dinner. Any preferences?”

“O-oh, no, I’m fine with anything.” Takumi hastens to say, not wanting to be a bother.

Tora laughs, a deep, pleasant sound, and vanishes down into the restaurant. Takumi dithers, unsure if he should follow in case he needs help carrying anything, then dismisses himself as ridiculous.

Instead, he sits down on the roof and gazes into the pastel pink horizon. Tora seems nice, if a little strange. Takumi’s not sure why he extended the invite, or what Tora has planned for the night besides dinner, but he knows why he accepted.

Loneliness pierces through him. When he lies awake, wishing desperately for sleep, he imagines friendly faces surrounding him, encouraging him to succeed. He imagines his mother speaking softly, concerned for him for once, not just smoothing his hair down or telling to sit up straight. He tries not to imagine his father.

When he’s not with Team Ha, performing their usual tasks, he’s constantly on rotation, being called up to help out on A-rank and S-rank missions. The reason why he didn’t want to have this vacation is because he knew it would be torture to go back to his normal routine of missions and targets, endless moments of peril and silence, surrounded by masked strangers and shrouded in protocol. If he lets himself fully settle into this break, he might never be able to go back.

And he can’t imagine what Kuma would do to him if he quit.

Absently, he touches the ugly scar on his forearm, tracing the raised tissue with his fingers. He remembers the day he received this wound all too well, and the confusing night that followed.

“Lost in thought, huh?” Tora says, amused.

Takumi jumps violently, nearly flailing off the roof, “Oh! Tora-san! I’m sorry!”

“For what?” Tora asks.

“For…”

“For nothing, kid. You’re allowed to live in your thoughts sometimes, even if those did seem a little melancholy.” Tora says, his voice gentle.

Takumi flushes, hugging his knees.

“I got you curry. Hope that’s okay.” Tora says, handing him a paper bag.

“Thank you! How much was it?” Takumi asks, taking out a carton of rice and starting to salivate. He hadn’t even realised he was hungry.

“Don’t insult me. This is my treat.”

Takumi frowns, fingers curling around his chopsticks. He looks up at Tora, hooded and cloaked, an imposing figure even in the warm, fading sunlight.

“Why do you want to treat me? Why did you want to hang out in the first place?”

Tora sighs, sitting down next to him, swinging his legs over the edge of the roof, “Do you always question why people want to spend time with you?”

“When they’re perfect strangers, yes.” Takumi responds, his confusion rendering him a little tarter than usual.

“Ah, you think I’m perfect?” Tora laughs. “You’re too kind.”

“Tha – that wasn’t – I didn’t even… you know what I meant!”

“I do, I do. I wanted to hang out with you because I wanted to. Eat your dinner. You look hungry.”

Takumi grumbles, but his frown clears the moment he tastes his first bite, “This is delicious!”

“Right? This is my favourite place. They serve all sorts of reprobates and fiends, so they don’t mind the mask.”

“You’re not a reprobate or a fiend… right?”

“I’ll leave that up to you.”

Takumi doesn’t want to overthink it, so he just focuses on scoffing down his delicious curry, all the way to the last bite. Tora’s mask is subtly angled towards him the whole time. Watching.

“Ahh!” Takumi lets out a rapturous sigh. “That was so good! But, Tora-san, didn’t you have anything to eat?”

“Oh, I wasn’t hungry.”

“But…”

“I already ate. I just figured you were probably the type that can’t take care of themselves, so I wanted to treat you.”

Takumi pouts, “I _can_ take of myself. I do it all the time! If you hadn’t bought me dinner, I would’ve cooked myself something, no problem!”

“No one to cook for you?” Tora asks casually.

“No, I do it all by myself.”

“I’m impressed. I thought you were the hopeless type.”

Takumi chucks his empty takeaway carton back into the bag, a rare anger surging within him.

“I’ve been alone for ten years,” he says quietly, “I know how to take care of myself.”

“Do you?” Tora asks, grabbing his wrist, too firm for Takumi to break free, but too gentle for it to hurt. “Solitude doesn’t necessarily grant a person independence. It can just mean they learn to survive the bare minimum, but get tripped up by things other people take for granted.”

“Like what?” Takumi tries pulling his wrist back, to no avail.

“Like knowing when someone’s taking advantage of you.”

Takumi’s eyes widen.

Tora heaves a sigh, “Not me. I wouldn’t. But the way you flinch at nothing, how you apologise for no reason… you know what that means, right?”

Takumi scowls, tracing a repulsion seal on the back of Tora’s hand. If only he had ink, or blood, or –

Tora leans closer, “It means you’ve been hurt. You might still be hurt. It’s hard for one person to take care of their own pain. Or to stop it happening again.”

“I’m fine,” Takumi says stubbornly, “I know what I’m doing. And… I really, _really_ don’t need to be babysat. So if Kakashi told you to do this, you can forget it. I thought you wanted to hang out with me just _because_ , not because you thought I needed looking after. Do you know how humiliating that is? To be seen as a child by a stranger? I’m a shinobi of Konoha, and I don’t need you to hold my hand!”

Tora releases his wrist at once.

“What does Hatake have to do with anything?” He replies blankly. “Is he a friend of yours?”

“No. I don’t – it doesn’t matter. I’m going home. Thank you for dinner.” Takumi says, preparing to jump down.

Tora doesn’t grab him, although he’s in range.

“Okay. I’m sorry for making you feel that way.” He says simply, stepping out of Takumi’s personal space.

“Y-you are?” Takumi says, waiting for the sting in the tail.

Tora laughs a little, putting his hands on his hips, “Why the surprise? I didn’t mean to upset you, but I did. I’m sorry for that.”

“You’re _nice_.” Takumi says, stunned.

Tora’s head tips back, a great big laugh echoing behind his mask, “Flatterer.”

“I just meant… I’m not used to…” Takumi crinkles the paper bag in his hands, looking away.

“I get it,” Tora says lightly, “the job can mess people up. It’s easy to end up around those kinds of people, and to forget that not everyone is like that.”

Takumi bites his lip, looking down.

A heavy hand falls on his head and he startles, nearly jerking out of reach. Tora ruffles his hair. For some reason, his tiger mask doesn’t look intimidating anymore. Takumi gazes back at the taller man, craning his neck to meet his eyes. The moment he glances towards the holes in the mask, Tora steps away, releasing his head.

“I’ll walk you home.” Tora says, sticking his hands in his pockets.

“I’m not a – ” Takumi begins, his annoyance returning.

“ – child, I know. But it’s good manners to walk a friend home after hanging out with them.” Tora says easily.

“Friend?” Takumi says hopefully. He imagines tracing _Tora_ into his door, then curses himself. _Don’t get too ahead of yourself, idiot,_ he thinks caustically.

Tora tilts his head, “Yeah. Friend. That okay with you?”

“Y-yes! More than okay! Great! Let’s go!” He jumps off the building, bounding across the street.

_I have a friend!_

xxxxxxxx

True to his word, Tora walked Takumi all the way home. He stayed close the whole way, elbows brushing as they passed through the streets side by side. Takumi glanced his way a few times, taking care to be subtle, but he never glimpsed anything beyond the mask, his hair hidden beneath his hood.

They reached Takumi’s house all too soon, just as the sun went down entirely, leaving them lit only by starlight, the moon wreathed in clouds.

Tora leans against Takumi’s doorframe, “Hope you haven’t lost your keys. I think it’s gonna rain tonight, and there’s not cover out here if you need to sleep under the stars.”

“Of course I haven’t lost them!” Takumi pouts, rooting through his bag, “I know exac – aha!”

He holds his keys aloft in triumph, beaming at Tora.

The moment stretches on, Takumi’s goofy grin dimming in confusion as the silence pulls taut between them.

Then Tora’s gloved hand gently brushes Takumi’s hair out of his eyes.

Takumi can only stare, his breath stolen by the casual touch.

“Sleep well, then,” Tora says, his voice low as if imparting a great secret, “I won’t accept anything less.”

The keys hit the ground.

Takumi doesn’t even flinch, still staring at Tora’s painted face, searching for the eyes he knows are looking back.

Tora bends down, scooping up the keys, and offers them back to him wordlessly. He’s still crouching, his height leaving his face level with Takumi’s stomach.

Takumi sucks in a breath, snatching the keys back, his hands feeling numb and useless, “Th-thank you!”

Tora places his hands on his haunches and _slowly_ pushes himself up.

“You’re welcome,” He replies, his voice back to its light, cheerful tone. Not the dark, rich sound that had thrummed through Takumi’s being, sending shockwaves through his nerves.

Takumi jams the key in the lock, trying to turn it to no avail. He studies it, confused, certain that Tora is silently laughing at him.

“Oh!” He says, remembering himself. He places his hand on the door, then awkwardly glances at Tora.

The other man is purposefully turned the other way.

Takumi smiles to himself, then activates the ward. The seal reveals nothing wrong, his wards having gone undisturbed throughout the day.

He feels his parents’ names circling his own, _Natsuki_ and _Youta_ shining bright blue in his mind. He’d picked his mother’s favourite colour for the ink, still hoping to somehow please her, even now as they occupy different worlds.

Takumi presses his forehead to the wood of the door, wishing with all his might.

The lock clicks open.

He smiles, murmuring, “Tadaima.”

“I’ll see you another time, Takumi.” Tora says quietly, not breaking the reverie the younger man had fallen into. He touches his shoulder, a whisper of movement in the dark, and Takumi startles, eyes flashing up.

“Oh. Okay! It was nice to meet you, Tora-san!” Takumi says brightly.

He’s happy, even though he knows there’s no chance Tora will want to repeat the experience. This one day was enough for Takumi. He hasn’t felt a kind hand on his face in what feels like years. It will be impossible to forget the sensation, now it has returned to him.

“Call me Tora,” The older man says firmly, “there’s no sense in holding to formality with codenames, after all. And Takumi? I _will_ see you another time. Okay?”

Takumi blushes, not quite sure why, but nods. Tora’s probably just being polite.

Tora reaches out once more. Takumi’s heart flutters. The older man’s hand pats his cheek just as Kakashi had done earlier, but it doesn’t feel condescending this time. Tora’s hand slides down Takumi’s face, just for a moment, fingers dipping into his collarbone. His hand rests against Takumi’s chest, hot and heavy against his heart.

Then he’s gone with a cheery, “See you!”

And Takumi sags against his door, clutching his bright red face.

xxxxxxxx

When Takumi was young, he believed in ghosts.

His parents laughed at him, told him if there really were ghosts, they’d outnumber the living. You couldn’t move an inch without touching a ghost. Takumi had responded with wide-eyed awe, bursting with excitement.

He imagined an entire ghost version of Konoha, overlaid perfectly over the village he lived in. The only differences would be what the ghosts remembered from their own lives. He imagined walking through Konoha, only to spot a shop he could have sworn hadn’t been there before. Making eye contact with someone who looks vaguely familiar, only realising she was his grandmother after he was long gone. He imagined ghosts dancing in the air, peeking through windows, reading all the books they missed out on when they were alive. Being a ghost must be _so_ much fun, he’d thought.

Then his parents died.

He was still in the Academy at the time. He’d come home one night and they weren’t home. That was normal, he hadn’t expected them back until the next morning. He washed the dishes and swept, struggling to hold the unwieldy broom. He lay in bed, waiting, hoping they’d somehow make it home early and tuck him in.

He fell asleep without even realising it, only waking when the first rays of sunlight touched his face. He perked up, listening hard for the sound of his parents’ voices. Nothing. He frowned, jumping out of bed and checking the window. He was sure he’d see them coming down the path.

No one was there.

Well, it was still early.

He made breakfast and ate it without tasting much. He stared at the door and waiting, a nervous energy beginning to thrum inside him. His leg jiggled up and down. Maybe they were late because they were getting groceries on the way home? And they had to report to the Hokage, too. _Of course,_ he thought, feeling relieved and annoyed with himself, _they’re not late at all. Stupid._

 _I won’t go to the Academy until they get home,_ he thinks. His teacher wouldn’t care. He’d be happy that he didn’t have to go over everything again and again until it sunk in for Takumi. It’d be fine.

He waited a little longer. The shadows stretched across the room. He had that guilty feeling of pleasure when the time for him to leave came and went.

He only realised it had been a few hours when he began to get hungry again.

This was a little weird. His parents normally rushed home to see him. Maybe they’d stopped off at one of their friends’ houses? He wanted to go check, but the idea of leaving gripped him with fear. What if they arrived while he was gone and he didn’t know, and he ended up checking the whole of Konoha and making a big fuss out of nothing?

No. He’d keep waiting. It’d be fine.

But the door wouldn’t open, no matter how much he stared.

The shadows had long since claimed the living room. He had no idea what time it was anymore, only that it was dark, and long past when his parents should have returned.

He was overreacting, clearly. Something had gone wrong or changed and the mission’s time had been extended. It didn’t matter that it was a simple courier job. Things went wrong all the time. They’d been held up, and they’d be back tomorrow.

He fell asleep in his chair, still facing the door.

He woke when hunger started gnawing at his stomach. He peered about blearily, somehow unsurprised by the emptiness of the house. He tried to not to imagine being alone becoming just another part of life, but it was hard when he could see the evidence of his family’s absence everywhere he looked. His dad’s chair was empty. There were no coffee mugs at the sink. Only his coat hung by the door, looking sad and small by itself. He couldn’t stand the thought of his dad’s chair staying empty, the mugs going unused, the pegs by the door all empty but one.

Surely, if something had happened, he would have been told? Someone would have come around to tell him. They wouldn’t just _leave_ him.

Thoughts of his mother’s sharp eyes and ever sharper words touch his mind and stick, refusing to budge. What if… what if they didn’t go on a mission? What if they just _left_ , with no intention of returning?

Once the idea occurred to him, Takumi was lost in a sea of tears, feeling horribly sorry for himself.

How hard he must be to love if he could be left behind with such ease.

He stayed that way for another night and day, not waiting anymore, just… wishing. He did that far too often, asking for help from some unseen, benevolent presence. Someone who knew him, inside and out, and still considered him good. Someone who cared, despite everything.

When the knock finally came, he’d just become accustomed to his new life as encompassed by these four walls, with nothing at all beyond them.

He answered the door, his hair sticking up, clothes as dirty and unwashed as the body they covered.

A chuunin was standing on his doorstep with a clipboard held against their chest, no one he knew. His heart sank, and yet some treacherous part of him felt relief. At least now he would know for sure.

“Yamaguchi Takumi?” The chuunin asked.

He could only nod, his throat parched from lack of water and use.

“You have missed several days’ attendance of the Academy,” The chunnin said severely, pinning him with a gimlet eye, “if you do not have an _exceptionally_ good reason, you will face punishment, which may include expulsion.”

Takumi gripped the door handle. _That_ was why they were here? The Academy had sent them?

“My parents haven’t come home.” Takumi said dully, his voice coming out cracked and small.

“For how long?” The chuunin asked impatiently. “I don’t need to see them just yet. I’m here for your explanation.”

“It’s been days,” Takumi said, tears dripping down his face, “I think they’re dead.”

The chuunin did not visibly react, but they lowered their clipboard, and the intensity of their stare dialled down a few degrees.

“What are their names?” They asked quietly, voice gentled by his news.

Takumi clung to the door, his fingernails scraping the paint away.

“Natsuki and Youta,” He told them, “my mother looks like me, but she’s pretty and tall. My father is a normal height, and he’s got a really deep voice. If you see them, please don’t tell them I answered the door. I’m not meant to.”

The chuunin said nothing, eyes on their clipboard. A muscle leapt in their jaw.

“I won’t say a word. You have two weeks’ mandated leave from the Academy. Should you receive a change of circumstances in that time, please report to the admin staff. If your living situation changes, you will be provided with the resources to manage the extra costs. Please keep us informed.” The chuunin said, the words coming out as if by rote, and then they gave him a shallow bow.

“Thank you.” Takumi said, dreading the end of the conversation, the moment they left him all alone, yet again.

The chuunin gave him a long look, their gaze assessing, then nodded. They started down the path without a backwards glance.

Takumi closed the door, sinking to the floor.

 _What can I do_? He thought to himself, _I’m not allowed to leave the house! How can I report a change of circumstance, whatever that means, or even… go find my parents? How can I do anything at all?_

Two weeks’ mandated leave. Takumi looked around the hall, empty except for him and his schoolbag, discarded on the floor. What could he do with himself in all that time?

Well, he’s already broken far too many rules.

He shivered, knowing what came next.

He dragged himself to the bathroom, every step reluctant.

The shower turned on with a gurgle. He turned the dial the wrong way, feeling the warmth that had started to permeate the room dissipate.

He stepped into the shower, sitting down and allowing the ice-cold water to spray directly onto his back.

He sat there for hours. Not waiting. Not anymore. He wasn’t sure what he was doing. He just thought that maybe, just maybe… his parents would come home all of a sudden, and they’d see that he was being good, correcting his own behaviour without having to be told, and they’d be so happy with him…

His body stopped shaking a long while ago. He couldn’t even feel the water on his skin, now, whereas before it had felt like a thousand tiny knives piercing his skin.

He counted the list of offenses, knowing if he forgot even one, he’d have to add _carelessness_.

He didn’t attend the Academy on several occasions. He failed to complete his homework. He didn’t even start his chores. He answered the door and spoke to a stranger. He spoke to a stranger about his parents. He spoke to a stranger without one of his parents. He cried.

Warmth touched his face and he jolted, hand coming up to investigate. He sighed, self-loathing seeping through him. He was crying, _again_.

He leant forward, forehead touching the cold tile, and wished for strength.

He didn’t leave the house for two weeks, his only company the sound of his voice reciting his offenses, and the ghosts that crept into his nightmares.

xxxxxxxx

Takumi leaves his house the morning after his meeting with Tora, hauling his bag of sealing materials for another trip to the library.

He’s careful to avoid the street he bumped into Kuma on, not wanting to risk his wrath today. There’s a spring in his step that he’s not used to, and he doesn’t want it to go away just yet.

He’s got an idea for a new seal, though it would require a minor medical miracle and possibly years of therapy. _Hmm,_ he ponders, _perhaps not._ He’ll just have to wait and see how it all turns out.

“Yo.”

Takumi spins around, eyes wide.

Kakashi is sitting on a bench, holding a bright orange book in front of his face.

Takumi looks around. There’s no one else on the street but them, the hour too early for most people.

“Uhh… were you talking to me, Kakashi-senpai?” Takumi asks. He hopes he’s not being too presumptuous.

“No, I was talking to that bird over there.” Kakashi drawls, pointing in a vague direction without looking up from his book.

Takumi can’t see any birds at all.

“You made a friend, Takumi-chan.” Kakashi says blandly, as if he couldn’t care less.

Takumi bristles at the _chan_ , somehow more annoying now than when Gai used it, then Kakashi’s meaning hits him.

“Do you mean Tora?”

Kakashi hums, tilting his head to point his exposed eye in his direction. It narrows, sharp and focused on Takumi’s face. He shifts restlessly on the spot, unable to make eye contact.

“You should be careful.” He says simply.

“Excuse me?”

“Do you even know who he is? He’s Tora, one half of the married couple. They’re famous in ANBU. A partnered duo, they never go on missions without each other.” Kakashi tells him, his direct gaze trying to catch Takumi’s eye.

 _They never go on missions without each other._ Just like Takumi’s parents, devoted to each other, right to the very end. Tora has someone like that in his life?

Takumi bites his lip, then smiles widely. Kakashi’s brow furrows in confusion.

“I’m glad,” Takumi pronounces, “Tora’s such a nice person. He deserves a partner like that. I’m happy for him.”

Kakashi shakes his head, pushing himself off the bench. Takumi flashes back to Tora doing something similar, slowly standing up before him, and he flushes at the memory.

Kakashi’s eye narrows.

“If you ever want more out of life, reason for someone to be happy for _you_ instead… you should probably learn how to fight for what you want.” Kakashi says, hands in pockets, his brow quirked up.

A heavy hand falls on Takumi’s shoulder.

“YOSH!” Gai bellows, right behind his ear, “let us begin training while the day is still young!”

Takumi wilts.

Kakashi’s face is almost entirely covered, but Takumi can _feel_ his smirk.

***

Hello, friends!

Ahhh, it’s been too long. I’ve missed this dumb bunny and his overprotective tiger.

So, Takumi’s parents turn out to not be so nice. Anyone surprised, considering the guy’s personality?

Ryuu drags Takumi out and behaves almost like a perfect gentleman. Probably because his date has no idea they’re on a date.

Why did Ryuu asks Takumi out (kind of) as Tora and not himself? Why did Takumi agree to an outing with a perfect stranger? (because he didn’t have a clue that it wasn’t a normal, friendly outing between strangers, that’s why)

Takumi grew up with a long list of rules that he _could not_ break, or he would be punished. He was also conditioned into punishing himself if his parents weren’t available to do so themselves. Does he still carry out these punishments to this day? We’ll see.

Is Kakashi trying to help or just trolling?

And, most importantly, will Usagi-chan ever find out that Tora-kun’s favourite food is rabbit stew? Find out next time on Dragonball Z!

 **Quick poll because I’m desperate for help:** What summons should Takumi have?

I can’t take an ANBU named rabbit seriously if they look like a rabbit, act like a rabbit, and summon rabbit helpers in battle. I’m sorry, I can’t!


End file.
